Astrid: Joining the Brotherhood
by Stagey
Summary: Damaged and suspicious of all but herself, Astrid learned early in life that you can only depend on yourself. One day, however, she meets someone who will be able to change her view on that subject. Sithis embraces all.


"Halt!" Came the voice of one of the city guards beneath his helm, "If you wish to enter er the… wonderful, beautiful city of Riften, a fee of a hundred septims must be paid!"

Raising a brow, Astrid eyed the two men standing outside of Riften's eastern gate; both were fidgeting and shooting each other minute glances.

_As if they've got ants in their loins… _Astrid noted with a bit of frustrated amusement. Riften was where she was born, where she was raised for most of her early life, and she couldn't help feel some indignation at the two guards, who obviously believed her to be an outsider. Yes, she had changed much, Astrid couldn't deny that. Still… there was some sadness; a blow to her psyche that could simply be labeled as rejection. She expected some recognition.

_Better unrecognized than thrown in a cell._ The little voice in Astrid's head shook her from her reverie, and she pulled up her hood.

The guard who had spoken cleared his throat, as if expecting the young Nord woman in front of him to either pay up or walk away. She did neither.

"So this is what Riften has fallen to, eh?" Astrid sighed softly, although it was melodramatic enough to earn another fidget from the guards. She turned around for a few moments, watching the wind blow the leaves at each side of the dusty path she stood on. She tucked in her shawl as the chilly air swept by before sighing again, "Letting a poor woman freeze out here in such frigid weather."

The other guard, who had remained silent until then shrugged his shoulders, then hefted his shield from its slack position on his arm,

"My apologies miss, but you'll need to buy a key to enter the city." Shield affixed, he rested his hands on his hips, "If you don't, you'll have to go back to wherever you came from."

Astrid cursed silently in her mind, but it was expressed outwardly as a tentative bite of the lower lip.

Fifteen years; she had been away from Riften for fifteen years. Riften; the city of thieves, scoundrels, cutthroats. Astrid held little doubts that these guards fell into one of those said categories. She despised rip-offs, and this was exactly that…

The first guard tilted his head downwards to the right, and although his helm hid his gaze, Astrid knew that he was eyeing the lower portion of her dress, which exposed her thigh.

Rolling her eyes (and thanking Dibella), Astrid took a few steps forward towards the guard, raised her hand to trail a few fingers down his chest, and whispered in the low, sultry tone that she had practiced those nights when her uncle's friends would visit:

"Now, why does the Jarl have such a strong Nord like you watching the gate?"

The guard raised his hands, as if to push Astrid away… but he didn't. Taking advantage of the lapse of will, Astrid continued,

"Surely you've been doing an excellent job of course, so humble… you must be tired, guarding the gate for so long, hrm?" She went on her tiptoes, and pressed her hands lower against the guard, feeling through the cloth and chainmail that covered his abdomen. "I think you need a break… And I can give it to you, if you really want." One hand traveled to the guard's crotch, and he stiffened (ha). "But only if you let me through."

There was a silence after this. Not tense like the one minutes earlier, but tense.

Astrid's lips parted slightly as she waited for the guard to respond.

The man cleared his throat for the second time that day and motioned with a nod to his comrade,

"Give her the key."

The second guard's head bobbed in what could have been shock or jovial teasing, but another nod from his mate, this time far firmer, forced him into compliance.

Astrid accepted the key and slowly let the breath that she was unknowingly holding out slowly through her nostrils. She moved for the gate, but the first guard grabbed her by the arm.

"I don't know how long you'll be around, lass, but I want my break… And I want it at The Bee and the Barb." He let her go, and turned back to his duty.

**...**

Astrid entered Riften for the first time in fifteen years.

Waves of unwelcomed nostalgia hit her repeatedly as she walked down the cobbled streets, which periodically turned to damp, rotten wood.

Everything felt the same, yet so… different.

Buildings were where small stalls had been, and in turn small stalls had replaced buildings. The gray sky that had seemingly adopted the city still hung over Riften, and slow moving fog added to Astrid's newfound curiosity of her old home.

_I suppose I shouldn't have expected things to be as they were, _Astrid thought, pursing her lips as a tramp strolled by, talking to himself, _Markarth was far better…_ She meant this of course, on a grander, aesthetic scale. Nothing could ever compare to Riften's air of mystery, and Astrid adored mystery.

The young woman's thoughts trailed back to the gate guard who she had agreed to meet with later. She wondered how he looked like… He sounded handsome; yet again, how can someone sound handsome? It was the first time Astrid had used seduction of men when she wanted something. She wasn't the person who could be called charitable, but after four years of wandering Skyrim's wastelands, she felt the need to give something back. _Perhaps a dance for the handsome-voiced guard…_

Astrid continued to walk through the city, ignoring scrupulous glances from familiar faces whose minds thought they recognized this hooded woman.

_Best leave the hood on._ Astrid's little voice spoke to her once more, and she lowered her sharp gaze from a passing man. _If word comes out that the killer of a noble is loose…_

Astrid, who had spent much of her life in the company of wealthy, ignorant (wo)men, was quite ignorant herself about Skyrim's views on crime. Her violations in the Reach were as relevant as horse shit to the guards in the Rift. She'd learn that later.

Stopping in front of The Bee and the Barb, Astrid took a glance behind to see the night steal the last somberness of the sun, and Riften's bleary atmosphere became suddenly clear in the moonlight; fog dispersed, and stars twinkled. The bright moons of Nirn seemed almost ethereal over the city, and it was only then when Astrid realized why so many lowlives called Riften their home.

_Who wouldn't want to commit a crime on beautiful nights like these?_

As soon as she stepped into the inn, Astrid found herself face-to face with a young, attractive Imperial with dark brown hair and… oh… those deep, dark eyes…

Smiling weakly, Astrid felt her knees buckle slightly as her gaze traveled up and down the man: a mage, from the look of his robes. Unlike other Nords, Astrid made little fuss over mages. They could use their talents in the bed, after all-

"Hello!" Greeted the Imperial, tone too amiable to be truly genuine, "You seem the adventurous sort. My skill in battle is unmatched. Fortunately for you, that skill can be bought!"

_Battle?_ Astrid's mind went blank momentarily before she smiled once more and shook her head,

"…No, I… I prefer to travel alone," She pulled down her hood with a hand, revealing the pretty face, and long, dark blonde hair.

The Imperial seemed taken aback, and it was clear that he had not expected Astrid to appear so appealing.

Astrid's smile grew as she continued, "…But thank you for the offer. I'm sure you would make a fine companion, Mister…?"

The Imperial recovered quickly, which impressed Astrid enough to allow her knees to buckle again.

"I'm Marcurio, ma'am. It's perfectly fine, by the way." He shook Astrid's hand warmly, "I've come a long way from Cyrodiil for an adventure. I tried in Markarth, but that didn't work out too well, so… I came here!" He chuckled jovially, and then shrugged his shoulders. "You probably already knew that… My apologies for presuming so quickly." He raised a mug he had been holding. "I suppose I'll still be here when you change your mind. No one seems to enjoy working with a master of the arcane arts." He winked before sitting down and taking a long sip of his mead.

Astrid gave Marcurio a final smile before strolling for the bar.

_Imperials, _she thought to herself, rubbing her temples with both hands, _Talk… Too… Damn… Much._

An Argonian manned the counter. Astrid couldn't see the lizard's face, as it was occupied with cleaning mugs. She felt a slight feeling of revulsion as the thought of a scaly, slimy, shell-cracked reptile serving drinks.

The Argonian turned around, and Astrid was (pleasantly) surprised to see a pair of large breasts –scaly and pale- bulging underneath the female lizard's apron.

"Yes?" Asked the Argonian in a reptilian croak, her lidless eyes examining Astrid with no trace of emotion.

"A-a room, please?" Astrid replied after tearing her eyes away from the other female's cleavage. She didn't mind what sex her lovers were; pleasure was pleasure, after all. Up until now, however, she had left a barrier prohibiting furballs and scales… well maybe furballs would remain out of her sensual sphere, but-

"I'll take you up then," Responded the Argonian after she received the septims, stepping from behind the bar and walking with swaying hips towards the inn's staircase.

Astrid followed, thinking on what that scaly tail could do. How it could pleasure, perhaps occasionally pain…

Moisture seeped down her thighs by the time she reached her room.

"Let me know if you need anything else." With that, the Argonian barkeep made her exit, closing the door, and leaving Astrid standing, somewhat uncomfortably.

Sighing, she walked stiffly towards the bed, and then plopped down in the middle of the sheets, letting out a moan of relief.

Finally, after four years and twenty-two hours, she'd finally be sleeping in a bed.

A knock on the door.

Astrid's head popped up, and she swiftly reached for the dagger tied to her calf.

_That's what I get for taking my hood off,_ she thought brashly, leaping from the bed_, that damn Imperial said he had come from Markarth. Probably told the Watch about me…_ _He probably knows I'm on the run…_

A guard entered the room, his hands up and in the process of removing the helmet covering his head.

The dagger dropped from Astrid's grip and landed with a clatter on the wooden floor.

The familiar face lit up, and the guard brushed his reddish hair from across his eyes with a hand.

"I knew I recognized you lass," Began Brynjolf, taking a few steps towards Astrid, "I'm expecting that break you offered."


End file.
